


promenade

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, jinnifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-04
Updated: 2008-09-04
Packaged: 2019-02-05 03:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12785823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Jin thinks he missed out on something in America.





	promenade

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

> From [Never Been Kissed (1999)](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0151738/):  
>  _Josie: Well, are you here with anybody?  
>  Sam: No, I’m alone.  
>  Josie: It’s weird because “prom” is actually from the word “promenade.” And you can’t really promenade alone, can you?_

“Did you know,” Jin says conversationally, “that in America they have a big dance at the end of every school year?”

Yamapi grunts and jerks his controller.

Jin takes this as a no. “It’s called ‘Prom’, and it’s this big deal.”

“So?” Yamapi finally says.

Nothing happens for awhile, and Yamapi looks up into the saddest Jin-face he’s ever seen. “What? Didn’t you drop out of high school?”

“Not the point!” Jin says stubbornly. “They have so many movies and everyone’s so pretty and it’s just so _heartfelt_ -”

Yamapi kicks him. “You sound like a girl.”

Jin huffs and purposely kicks Yamapi’s ass in their game.

That’s when Yamapi knows it’s serious.

::

Ryo blinks. “What.”

“That’s what I said!” Yamapi continues his upside-down crunches while it takes a second for Ryo to recover from the stupid. “Just another reason that trip to America was a bad idea. That country gave him _ideas_.”

“Oh no, not _ideas_ ,” Ryo says sarcastically.

Yamapi rolls his eyes. “You are not helpful.”

“Oh, my god.” Ryo flips off of the bench and stares at Yamapi so hard that he stops mid-crunch. “He wants you give him a fucking Prom, dumbass.”

“What?” Yamapi responds, his mind not quite wrapping around the words.

“Sometimes,” Ryo says seriously, “we have to do things for our friends that we’d never admit to another living soul.”

Yamapi looks thoughtful. “Really?”

Ryo bursts out laughing and heads towards the showers. __

_::_

_To: Yamapi  
From: Prince Jin_

OMG I AM ABOUT TO INTERVIEW JODIE FOSTER IN ENGRISH I AM SO NERVOUS PI HALP.

_::_

_To: Bakanishi  
From: Dr. YamaPI_

Calm down. What are you wearing?

_::_

_To: Yamapi  
From: Prince Jin_

HOW CAN YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN AND WHY DOES IT MATTER WHAT I’M WEARING. A TUX.

_::_

_To: Bakanishi  
From: Dr. YamaPI_

Wear it home. I have a present for you.

::

Jin blinks at his phone just as the producers call five minutes, then he gasps. Present! He checks for the four-thousandth time to make sure he has Jodie’s presents (he definitely doesn’t want to pull a Nakamaru) and sits at the table, twiddling his thumbs and waiting for her to come out.

His mind has a bit of a delayed reaction and _then_ focuses on Yamapi’s mail, wondering why on earth Yamapi would want him to wear the tux home and what that has to do with a present.

A girl comes out to wipe the sweat from his forehead and poof his hair, and Jin can’t even concentrate enough to ogle her properly. He almost apologizes until he remembers that ogling is inappropriate in the first place.

The thought of a present waiting for him at home helps with his nerves a little, and when Jin asks if he can keep the tux after the interview, the producer thinks it’s because Jodie said that he was hot in it.

::

Yamapi carefully sits on the corner of Jin’s couch, his gloved hands folded patiently in his lap as he waits for Jin and feels like the biggest goober ever to walk the planet. In satin flats, even.

(“I’d do you,” MatsuJun had said as he attacked Yamapi’s hair with a pick and hairspray. “And I don’t normally do girls.”)

The cursed mirror in the hallway shows the reflection of someone else, someone very tall with big, curly hair and a lot of makeup. Probably too much makeup. He looks like a whore. Damn that MatsuJun, even if he had managed to find Yamapi an evening gown in about twenty minutes.

While he considers running to the bathroom and washing his face, the front door swings open. Yamapi uses all of his strength to look up, seeing Jin with his poofy hair and his stupid glasses, but all he can do is smile because he’s still wearing the tux. With a tie. “Welcome home.”

Yamapi’s an actor. He’s certainly acted in worse situations than this. He’s doing this for Jin, because he’s Jin’s best friend and sometimes you have to do things for your best friend that you’d never admit to another living soul.

“… I’m home.” Jin blinks and starts to fall back against the door, except that it’s still open and he barely catches himself on the door frame to keep from landing on his ass out in the hallway. He clears his throat as he closes the door properly, locking it for good measure, and it’s not until Jin flips the dead bolt that Yamapi thinks this might have been the right thing to do after all.

“Jin-kun,” Yamapi says in his best girl voice, holding out one hand for emphasis. “Will you go to the Prom with me?”

He says it in English, and Jin looks mesmerized for half a second before his hand flies to his mouth, unsuccessfully covering a laugh that has Yamapi ready to kick his ass, dress and all. Then Jin regards him with a look that Yamapi can’t describe and says, “Yes.”

Jin crosses the room and accepts Yamapi’s hand, leading him to the empty space where Yamapi had moved Jin’s coffee table. He looks a little awkward as he is obviously trying not to look at Yamapi’s dress, or more specifically how it fits him.

“Go ahead,” Yamapi tells him in the airy voice. He knows the game; he’s done it a million times before. “I wore it so you would look.”

Now Jin stares abashedly, mostly at Yamapi’s collarbone that’s covered by a thin shawl. “I don’t like this,” he says quietly, pushing the material aside.

Yamapi’s eyes cast downward. “My arms aren’t very girly,” he says sadly. “I thought it would be better to cover them up.”

Jin’s shaking his head when Yamapi looks up again. “You worked hard for them. Don’t hide them.”

The shawl falls to the floor, a chill encompassing Yamapi’s body that he doesn’t think is from the cool recycled air. Jin slowly runs his hands up and down Yamapi’s arms, the muscles flexing under his touch and contrasting with the chill to make Yamapi inhale sharply.

He opens his eyes to see Jin staring at him like he wants to take him up against the nearest wall. He vaguely wonders if this is what girls feel like when they invoke this kind of reaction in guys – scared and excited and helpless and _wanting_ all at the same time.

“What are you thinking about?” Jin asks, his hands resting at Yamapi’s elbows as he steps into Yamapi’s personal space.

“Dancing,” Yamapi lies.

Jin chuckles. “There’s no music.”

Yamapi reaches for the remote resting on the couch arm next to him. One button turns on Jin’s ‘mood lights’, as he calls them, and another turns on the stereo, filling the apartment with whatever happens to be in the CD player.

It’s upbeat with a lot of bass, and Jin looks like he does not approve. “Disc three, track five,” he tells Yamapi, smirking when Yamapi does it without looking at the controls.

A slow, sultry beat takes over, and Yamapi knows within two notes that this is more about him and Jin than any kind of high-school memory. Jin’s hands drop to Yamapi’s hips, molding to his body like puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together.

“Dance with me,” Jin says in a low voice, and Yamapi doesn’t even have to agree, just raises his arms to wrap around Jin’s neck like a girl should.

The music pounds in his head as he feels Jin start to move against him, his own style of dancing that’s more like grinding than actual movements, but Yamapi certainly didn’t get where he is today because of his looks and gives it right back, meeting him with every hip roll in perfect time to the beat.

“Is this a battle?” Jin asks, a hint of amusement behind his voice as he grasps onto Yamapi’s hip harder and pulls him closer.

Yamapi brings one of his hands around Jin’s neck, fingering his tie before yanking it until Jin’s in his face. “Don’t forget who you’re dancing with.”

“How can I?” Jin replies. “You’re as tall as I am.”

Yamapi laughs, poking Jin in the leg with one of the shoes. “I decided against the heels for that very reason.”

It’s like it’s an instant reaction – the toe of Yamapi’s shoe touches Jin’s skin and Jin starts to lean in, bumping his nose against Yamapi’s in the inevitable prelude to a kiss, but Yamapi leans to the side and ends up with Jin’s lips on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry -” Jin starts.

Yamapi interrupts him with not words but actions as he lifts Jin’s chin and slowly slides off his glasses, stretching his arm to carefully place them on the entertainment center before returning his hand to Jin’s face. He traces Jin’s features with a gloved fingertip, feeling a little frustrated that he can’t really feel anything through the material.

“Take them off,” he whispers, and Jin automatically turns his head to take the tip between his teeth.

Somewhere in the time it takes Jin to relieve Yamapi of both of his gloves, Yamapi’s eyes have fallen shut. He’s not seeing Jin so much as feeling him, how his lips remain on Yamapi’s now-bare fingers until a hot tongue flicks against them.

Yamapi moans, uncaring as to how it sounds in favor of how it feels with Jin still ‘dancing’ with him, his hold on Yamapi firm as he rubs against him just where they both want it.

“Open your eyes,” Jin whispers, and Yamapi does.

Jin stands before him, eyelids heavy with something that the look in his eyes exemplifies. Yamapi could probably define it better, but Jin chooses that second to lean in again and this time Yamapi meets him halfway. Their lips brush together and Yamapi’s hands are in Jin’s hair, threading the curls with his fingers as he immediately tilts his head and tongues his way into Jin’s mouth. It takes Jin a second to catch up, but then both of his hands are lowering to Yamapi’s ass and their dance is forgotten as Jin blatantly pulls Yamapi towards him and groans at the friction.

It feels different to Yamapi, the fabric of the dress in addition to Jin’s rough grinding making him harder, gasping into Jin’s mouth until he abruptly pulls away and clutches onto Jin’s blazer while Jin’s face dips into Yamapi’s neck. The blazer is shoved off like it was offending somebody when Yamapi’s skin is sucked through Jin’s lips, and Yamapi gets to work on Jin’s tie while Jin slowly slips one of the straps of Yamapi’s dress off of his shoulder.

Jin’s mouth is on his collarbone, taking care of the other strap and chuckling when the dress doesn’t fall down. “You have a great rack, Pi.”

Yamapi’s first instinct is to smack him, but he settles for reaching between his legs and groping him instead. “You’re just jealous because I look better in a dress than you.”

Jin moans in response, a raunchy noise that somehow fits with the music as he tugs up the bottom of Yamapi’s dress to slip a hand underneath. Yamapi’s pushing against him before he even gets there, grabbing Jin’s head and diving into his mouth again when he actually makes contact.

His insistence seems to fuel Jin, who can barely kiss back as he maneuvers them in the general direction of the couch and almost throws Yamapi to the floor when they end up halfway on.

“Jin,” Yamapi whispers, looking up at him with everything he wants to say and can’t say on the tip of his tongue.

Jin’s smirk is oddly comforting, particularly with Jin’s hands sliding up his legs and taking the dress with them. Once it’s bunched around his waist, Yamapi fidgets because he can’t see what’s happening and he feels very exposed.

“Who goes commando to the Prom?” Jin asks, dragging his fingers along Yamapi’s balls in a way that makes him moan.

“I didn’t exactly have any girly underwear on hand,” Yamapi replies, feeling his face flush and purposely omitting the disastrous thong-shopping escapade from earlier. “ _Jin_ … please…”

“‘Please’ what?” Jin asks casually, now tracing Yamapi’s length.

“ _Do_ something,” Yamapi grits through his teeth. “Don’t just sit there and _stare_ at it.”

“But it’s so pretty,” Jin says facetiously, and Yamapi’s about to retort until he sees the top of Jin’s head disappear from his sight.

Five seconds later there’s a tongue on the head of his cock and he almost smacks the back of his head against the arm of the couch. “ _Jin_ ,” he whines.

He doesn’t really expect Jin to do it right away, but apparently he’s had enough teasing as well. Jin takes him all the way past his lips like he’s not difficult at all, and Yamapi’s amazed for half a second before his nerves reach his brain and all he knows is the feeling of being surrounded by Jin’s hot mouth.

“Jin,” he says again, and means it this time.

Jin’s fingers tighten on Yamapi’s hips, although Yamapi doesn’t think it has anything to do with holding him down as he slowly bobs up and down and tightens his lips until Yamapi can’t exhale without moaning.

Then he pulls off. Yamapi’s eyes fly open to deliver a nasty glare, but Jin’s in his face and trying to unfasten his pants one-handed and Yamapi gets a clue as to what’s about to happen here. “You’re not fucking me,” he says sternly.

“You can fuck me, whatever,” Jin says heatedly, and Yamapi would have been bewildered if he didn’t know any better. Instead he accepts Jin’s sloppy kiss and goes to work on Jin’s shirt, carefully popping open buttons until he can push it off of Jin’s shoulders.

Jin kicks his pants off and hovers above him, completely nude, surveying the sight below him. “I changed my mind, I want the dress off.”

Yamapi lifts his arms obligingly, lying still as Jin tugs the dress up and over his head, then pokes his belly button ring just because he can. Yamapi smacks his hand and Jin kisses him, fiercely, taking Yamapi fully in hand and swallowing his groans as Yamapi grabs onto the flesh of Jin’s back.

He feels a condom being rolled onto him and wants to make a joke about getting knocked up on Prom night, but then Jin’s confiscating his fingers and lathering them in something and Yamapi knows exactly where they’re about to go. He inhales sharply as he slips one inside Jin, then another, not really having to do much but hold them up as Jin moves back against them and puts them where he wants them.

Jin’s body tightens and Yamapi loses his breath at the thought of that happening around his cock, grunting softly into Jin’s ear as Jin’s face is buried in his neck.

“How are _you_ getting off on this?” Jin scoffs, to rocking back and forth against Yamapi’s fingers.

Yamapi answers by jabbing him harder, his other hand firm on Jin’s hip to hold him down when he jumps. He feels Jin’s hands on him, lubing him up, and his mouth falls open, a silent moan that’s only intensified when his fingers are replaced with his cock.

“ _Pi_ ,” Jin groans as he sinks down, his eyes closed and his face scrunched up as he gets used to the intrusion.

“Open your eyes,” Yamapi demands, his voice deeper than normal and making Jin immediately comply as he leans down and braces himself on Yamapi’s shoulders.

Then he starts riding and all coherent thought leaves Yamapi. Jin’s body squeezes him on the upstroke as well as the down, giving him constant stimulation while Jin moans in his ear, mangled variations of both of his names that seem to take him higher. He can’t see anything but the bright colors behind his eyes as Jin keeps bringing him closer, moving with the beat of the song that’s a good number of songs behind the initial one but still serves the purpose.

Jin sits back and moves with his hips, staring down at Yamapi through the narrow slits of his eyes, taking his bottom lip into his mouth as he reaches down and wraps a hand around himself, hissing at the contact and wasting no time catching up with Yamapi.

“Fuck,” Yamapi spits, the one word he can form at the moment as Jin tightens even more, making him automatically thrust upwards in search of it, placing both hands on Jin’s hips to hold him steady. Now Yamapi controls the rhythm, his moaning starting up again as he gets closer, closer, almost there, “Jin, hurry up -”

Jin’s outcry continues to ring in Yamapi’s ears as he brings himself off right in front of him, the sight as well as the resulting constriction giving Yamapi no choice but to follow. He can’t keep his eyes open and it feels like he can’t breathe, and finally he inhales deeply and smells nothing but sweat, sex, and the crap they put in Jin’s hair.

“Sorry,” Yamapi says, sounding as deflated as he feels.

Jin snorts as he shifts around on top of Yamapi until he’s comfortable. “For what?”

“Wasn’t much of a Prom…”

Looking like it takes all of his energy, Jin hoists himself up on his elbows and glances from one of Yamapi’s eyes to the other, probably seeing the messed up makeup and post-sex flush that Yamapi is sure makes an unflattering combination.

“What are you talking about?” Jin asks. “It was perfect. Everyone gets lucky on Prom night.”

Yamapi rolls his eyes and tries to shove Jin off of him, but he won’t budge.

“Thanks,” Jin mumbles, and that alone makes it worth it.


End file.
